


Fresh Coat

by Alliance (Xazz)



Series: Cypress Hall [60]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 10:25:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19374817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xazz/pseuds/Alliance





	Fresh Coat

Heliconia didn’t like what he was doing. Why he was doing it. He looked at his hide in the reflection of a too small mirror. It looked different now. He looked different. He wasn’t sure how much he liked it now that it was like this. It was a big change but he’d worked for it. He’d spent a lot of time away from Nadalin to look this way, for her. He swallowed.

“How do I look?” he asked his mother who was laying on a sack chair casually, looking at him preen. He tried to smile but felt too nervous to do so.

“Like you value form over substance,” she said, face disapproving.

“That sounds like something father would say,” he said. It made hi, feel bad. His mother didn’t deserve that. But he knew now that she was as manipulated by his father as he had been. 

“No, your father would say that you are a disgrace to survival,” Heliconia said. “And that if you cannot get by with yourself and just change everything about yourself to survive than you aren’t worthy of surviving.”

“Well thank the Eleven he isn’t here then,” Tyberion said.

“Your Charge doesn’t care what you look like, son. Neither should you,” Heliconia said.

Tyberion’s head fins closed in annoyance. “I think I look nice,” he said. He had had several of the others help him decide what scrolls he would take the time to gather. Aten had been a great help. Him and Astra actually. It was striking how quickly Aten’s mood had changed once his sister started living with him in that house to the South. If Tyberion didn’t know any better he’d say the miserable lout was happy. 

And he knew his Charge didn’t care what he looked like. But he cared if Nadalin thought he looked good, handsome. The plates along his chest itched thinking about it, right over his second heart. Oh Gods he was going to go see Nadalin soon. That was terrifying. “Does looking this way please you, son? Did you not like the way you were born?” Heliconia asked him.

“Mama,” he said, looking at her, “I was born in a decaying bay full of disease and rot to an insane sire and… you,” he tempered his words. He knew that Heliconia’s words were just bred from fear that he would abandon her. She had her own Charge but Tetra just saw her as a friend, a slightly annoying one at that. “My looks weren’t exactly either of your primary concern. And you look lovely,” he added, “but I’m not there anymore. I need to look like I belong in this place. I can’t when I literally look like I crawled out of a plague infested not.” His friends would never say it but Aten’s lovely niblings asked why his displayed genes were ugly. Aten had, of course, instantly hushed them and told them that was rude but Tyberion had felt that deeply.

“I suppose,” Heliconia allowed but still sounded unhappy. “And you aren’t doing this to get back at me?”

“Mama, no,” he huffed. “Now we should leave. You need to go help Tetra, it’s getting rather late in the day.” He went over to his mother and pushed her to his feet. As he did he realized how much bigger he was than her. He hadn’t even noticed when he’s grown larger than her. It happened while in the Hall.

Heliconia clambered to her feet. “Yes, I suppose so,” she sighed. She rubbed her head against his affectionately. “Don’t come home too late now.”

“I won’t,” he promised and then before Heliconia could say anything else he practically bounded out of their shed of a house. Not that it mattered. All they did was sleep in it. It was a warm, dry, place to sleep and little else was needed. It was practical, serviceable, fit Heliconia’s sensibilities.

Once outside Tyberion leapt into the air and flew out over the mangroves to where the wind stirred. He landed amid the bamboo stand and made sure he still looked okay. He was very nervous about Nadalin seeing him like this for the first time. He’d been away for a bit getting all his new look applied and now… and now he was showing his Charge that he’d changed. It shouldn’t matter of course. She was his Charge. She shouldn’t care he looked different. But he hoped she did. Because he had… other feelings for her and oh wasn’t that something he could never tell his mother without her getting cross with him. A Guardian and Charge was a sacred bond between two things. She claimed that you couldn’t and shouldn’t be romantic with your Charge. Of course she did have the bad history of his father pretending she was his Charge  warping her perception on what was and wasn’t a valid thing you do with ones Charge. At least that was what he told himself so he didn’t feel guilty about his feelings.

After making sure he looked alright he stepped out of the bamboo and down the path to where Nadalin’s little hut was. She was, as always, at her work table. But at this time of day she was freshly out of bed and drinking a cup of morning tea from Shai’s fields. She was idly making notes of some sort in a notebook and didn’t notice him until his shadow fell across her. She looked up and for a moment she looked confused. “Tyberion?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“By the Wimdsinger!” she got to her feet and came around her table, looking up at him. “I didn’t even recognize you! But look at you, you’re all scrolled. Where did you get so many scrolls?” Her Wind eyes were bright and curious and not at all as judgmental as his mother’s or as disapproving as he had feared.

“I was saving,” Tyberion said. “It was a busy time for use you know, with the Night of the Nocturne.” He’d never worked so hard I’m his life. “What do you think?” he asked, still nervous.

“Bring your head down here, let me see you,” she said and he obediently lowered his head down to her level. He supposed he should have realized he was hard to see while she was in her dragonoid form.

She took his entire head in her hands and his facial fine snapped open. She had a kind smile spread across her face as she looked him over. “Yes yes, very handsome indeed,” she said with teasing approval. Tyberion’s eyes widened at that. She thought he was handsome!? He tried not to think too much about it. Aten also called him handsome and Aten wasn’t interested in him like that. No use getting excited.

“You think so?” he asked her.

“Why not?” she beamed at him. Then she frowned, “Your mother said otherwise didn’t she?”

“… Maybe,” he allowed.

“Uhg, you need to stop listening to her, Tyberion. You’re much better than she acts like you must be.”

“Yes,” he just agreed. It did upset him that the two most important women in his life, his mother and his Charge, did not get along at all. He found that just agreeing with them about whatever they said about the other without offering any counters or judgement was the best way to go about it. “But you think my new display looks nice?” he said to distract her from her opinions on Heliconia. 

“Yes,” she said nicely. “Your future mate is going to be very lucky to have such a well general mate,” she patted his snout. No that was not the reaction he wanted. “You going to help me with so,e work today or does someone else need your services?”

“I am at your disposal, as always,” Tyberion said. Fjord liked to drag Tyberion into helping him and Aten around the Hall because he was still in dragon form and between him and Aten (who was smaller at the shoulder but longer than him) they could bully any piece of lumber or masonry into submission. Johanna also said there would be no working for a while. She was quite exhausted from the Night and needed a respite.

“Great. I need some help cutting down some of the bamboo. It’s getting a bit out of hand.”

“Of course. I was rather hungry today, I think I can handle some bamboo.”

“No you silly,” she cried even as she laughed. He gave her a dragon’s smile. 


End file.
